Chapter Nine #2
The whole place buzzed like a hive of bees with conversation.
She could smell the undertone of painting oils, furniture polish, and heated bodies.
She was surprised there were so many people and at times it was awkward to try to navigate around the small groups as they chatted.
The duke soon left them when he saw an acquaintance and the three women were left alone to wander at will.
They bobbed curtseys and nodded as they went around the long gallery.
Lucinda had never seen so many sketches, watercolors, and oil paintings before.
“Have you found a Dunstan yet?” Marianne joked. “I know you have been looking at every artist’s name.” She accompanied the statement with a little giggle.
Lucinda blushed. Had she been so obvious? “I have not looked at every one. Besides, what name would I be looking for? I do not know his name, only his title.” Well, that was not a lie, was it?
“Then you must tell me which is your favorite from this wall, and I shall tell you mine.” They moved away from where Marianne’s mother was inspecting a refreshment table.
“Very well,” Lucinda said, scanning the paintings before her. “I like this one of the fishermen pulling in the boat with the storm brewing just offshore in the background. It is extremely dramatic.”
“Oh, that one is nice. I like this one of the views of a country village. The use of light and color is quite stunning. See how the sunlight glints on the water? How do they do that? And there is a dog!”
“I myself find that one particularly appealing,” said a voice from behind them. “Especially the dog.”
Lucinda found herself genuinely happy to see the man who was now bowing in front of them. “Lord Dunstan. We were wondering if you might be here.”
He smiled at both of them. “I had to come; it is the last day of the exhibit. Imagine if I had missed Lady Ashton’s lovely description of this painting. I am glad you like it. It is mine.”
“Oh,” said Marianne, her face suddenly flushed with color. No other words passed over Marianne’s lips as she stared at him.
Lucinda spoke then to give her friend time to gather her wits. “It is wonderful, Lord Dunstan. What village is it?”
“A little place just outside Richmond, not so far from London. It is mostly farmland owned by the Duke of Richmond.”
“How long did it take to paint, my lord?” Marianne asked, finally finding her voice.
“Good question. This one took about a week or so to get the bones down and the rest I did at the academy. My problem is I am a perfectionist, and I do not know when to stop, at least that is the scolding I get from my tutors.”
“And the dog?”
“Mine too. His name is Bartholomew. Bart for short. He is a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel.”
“Oh, I love dogs. I have one also, a spaniel too but Sasha is cocker spaniel.”
Dunstan smiled at Marianne, and she blushed again. “Dogs make life bearable,” he said.
“Oh, I agree.”
“Miss Sterling, do you have a dog?”
“No. But I adore playing with Sasha.”
Lord Dunstan seemed pleased by her answer. It was not a lie; Sasha was easy to love. “Now, show me the picture you liked, Miss Sterling.”
They moved a little to the left, to the large painting in its gilded frame.
“Ah, I can see why you like it. Turner has a lovely way of making his work human and his use of light and shade to create the storm is genius. One day I shall master that skill, but I am far from it I am afraid.”
“Your painting is wonderful, Lord Dunstan. You are incredibly talented, my lord.”
He gave her a bow. “Thank you, Miss Sterling. May I get you both some punch?”
The girls both nodded, and Lord Dunstan turned and made his way to the refreshment table where the dowager waylaid him.
Tony walked up behind the two girls as they were studying a painting. “You two look very pleased with yourselves.”
“Tony!” Marianne said. “What are you doing here? You hate art.”
He stopped short. “I do not hate it.”
Lucinda scowled at him. It was the first time they had seen each other since he had kissed her.
Tony tried hard to ignore her expression.
Was she still hurt by his actions? Of course she was.
He had been a fool. He should have simply explained that it was simply not the done thing.
Perhaps then she would not be looking at him like he had told her she was a hideous serpent creature.
“The duke said that you did,” Lucinda said, her chin thrust out.
He studied her for a moment. “Did he now?”
Marianne tugged on her arm, but she ignored her with her hand on her hip as the words just flew out of her mouth, like she needed to hurt him back. “He also said you did not like reading or even horse riding. Is that true?”
Tony blinked. “I see my brother has been busy besmirching my name without the decency to even do it when I am at least around to defend myself.”
“But it is true that you are not fond of art,” Marianne said.
“True, but that is beside the point.”
“What about reading? The duke said…”
“I would not believe everything my dear brother utters, Miss Sterling. He knows little about what I do and do not do.” He was angry now. Damn it, Edward. He needed to change the scene, and quickly. “Now, let us admire this so-called art.”
“Lord Dunstan is getting us punch.”
Tony turned in time to see the man making his way through the mingling groups, followed by his own mother. “Well good for him.” It was time to see for himself who this man was.
“Here we are, ladies.” Lord Dunstan handed them both a glass and turned to Tony. “I do not believe we have met. I am the Earl of Dunstan.” The man held out his hand.
Tony shook the earl’s hand, making sure his grip was strong. There was a moment of sizing up that men did, and then the handshake was over. “I am Miss Sterling’s guardian, Lord Anthony Ashton.”
“Ah, Warrington’s youngest brother.”
Tony nodded. Why did it always come back to his rank in the family? It made him feel insignificant, and he did not like it. Or him.
“Are you enjoying the exhibit, ladies?” he said, turning away from Tony’s stare.
“Very much so.” The girls said in unison.
“Our Ashton is not much for art, my lord, but I am sure even he would find something to enjoy here.” The dowager smiled up at Lord Dunstan like the man commanded the sun and probably the moon.
“Indeed, madam, art is in the eye of the beholder. What appeals to one does not appeal to another. That is the great gift of art. There is something for everyone, even if it is nothing more than a Hogarth caricature.”
“Oh, yes, Lord Dunstan, well said. Our Anthony loves Hogarth, don’t you, dear?”
“Is that so?” Lord Dunstan turned to him with a raised brow.
Tony felt like Dunstan had just set him up as the butt of a joke. Dunstan had not said anything disrespectful but at the same time found an effective way of diminishing Tony’s choice of… art. “Hogarth is a terribly smart fellow. I admire his work very much.”
Dunstan smiled at him in a pitying way. “And yet, we all live in hope of never being the fodder for his… works.”
Tony smiled back. “I am afraid the affairs of my family are nothing that would interest the man. If you have nothing to hide, he should not be bothered with you either.”
“Of course.” The earl turned back to the ladies. “I have taken up enough of your time. Enjoy the rest of the exhibition.” He bowed in their direction and nodded at Tony before fleeing into the crowd. Or at least that was how Tony saw it.
His mother hit him with her fan. “You were very rude to Lord Dunstan, Tony.”
“In what way, Mother? We simply discussed art. It is what one does at such an event, is it not?” That got him a glare from all three of them.
“Shall we stroll, Miss Sterling?” He held out his arm to her.
She hesitated for a moment before putting her arm through his.
He supposed she was angry with him for running off Dunstan as well.
Just another thing to add to her list of things she did not like about her guardian at the moment.
She waited until they were out of earshot. “What are you playing at?”
“Me?”
“Yes. You. Have you forgotten you are supposed to be helping me find a husband, not insulting and running off my suitors.”
“I did not run him off. He threw the first stone with the whole Hogarth thing. In any case, Dunstan will be back. I wager he will be in our parlor tomorrow.”
Lucinda looked at him in disbelief. She obviously did not understand how things worked.
How men thought, how the season was nothing more than a transactional dance between families.
He wanted to protect her from marrying the wrong type of man.
Knowing what she wanted made it almost impossible because he knew she wanted a love match.
She may not have said it in quite that way, but he would bet his livelihood on it.
His mother and sister were twittering behind them, no doubt plotting and planning how they would tear shreds off him later, or get Edward to do it seeing as he was of the opinion that he was ripe for it.
“This is nice,” he said as they passed a marble sculpture of a woman draped in a swath of fabric. He only mentioned it because the pictures on the walls were too boring.
“Oh, what do you like about it, Lord Ashton?”
Ha, she wanted to trip him up. “I like how the symmetry of her form reflects the light. The clever way the marble looks like fabric, almost transparent.”
“Not the fact that she is half naked?”
“Miss Sterling! The poor woman does not even have arms.”
A hint of a smile passed over her lips. “So, your attention is not drawn to her breasts at all?”
“Not at all.”
“Is lying part of your job, Lord Ashton? For it should be; you are particularly good at it.”
“If I were any good, Miss Sterling, you would not know if I were lying or not, now, would you?”
“Even the best liars can be caught out.”
“An amusing theory but I thought we were supposed to be cleverly critiquing this fine piece of marble.”
“Perhaps you need to go to more exhibitions. To hone your skills.”
“I like this side of you, Miss Sterling. I was afraid my ward was going to be nothing but a quiet, obedient mouse.”
“I assure you, my lord, I am nothing like a mouse, but since we are calling each other names perhaps I should call you a hyena.”
“A hyena?”
“They are known for running away when threatened.”
Tony laughed. “Your grasp on African animals is impressive but I hardly see how this is comparable.”
“Because you run away when you make a… mistake.”
“Ah, I wondered how long it would take you to confront me about the…” She shushed him. Actually, shushed him. He was more shocked than anything.
“I would have sooner, but you appeared to be hiding from me, my lord.” Her voice was getting louder with her agitation.
“We can have a full discourse on this issue later. This is not quite the place.”
“I agree but let me first warn you not to scare Lord Dunstan away again, unless of course you have reason. If he is found to be a murderer or a gambler of high stakes. Have you found such evidence, my lord?”
“I dare say, I wouldn’t bother running him off just yet, but the season is young.”
They strolled arm in arm as if they had not just had a quarrel.
Her quick wit impressed him, and it was true.
He had thought the quiet, mousy girl of the last few weeks, not the same person he had met the night she arrived.
He supposed she was becoming more confident. That was a good thing, wasn’t it?
Damn it. This guardian thing was harder than he had ever imagined.
Now he wished it had entailed nothing but taking her shopping.
That at least would not have him dreaming of her, of those green, green eyes.
He would not be thinking of how he wanted to kiss each small freckle that lay on the bridge of her nose and cheeks.
To taste those champagne-sweet lips. Oh, lord, he must stop this madness.
How to keep his distance but not make it look like he was hiding from her. They had made the end of the gallery with not another word.
“I will try and do better if you will,” he said, because he was not going to apologize again.
“Thank you.”
“Thank you?”
“Should I have said something else? It was you who told me if I hear something and I am not sure it is genuine, I should just say, thank you.”
“That is not what I said at all. I said when someone compliments you, and you are not sure if the compliment is genuine.”
“Oh, I must be mistaken then. What must I say when someone says something to me, and it seems disingenuous?”
He growled, bowed, and stalked away from her because she knew, as he did, that the answer would be the same and people were beginning to stare.
He had changed his mind. He did not like this new side of her. It was a lie, of course. Part of him wanted more of her daring. Not that he liked being told off. He did not look Miss Sterling’s way again. He gained a hack in quick time. What a mess he was making of all this. Was he a hyena?
*
Marianne and her mother came up to Lucinda with concern on their faces.
“My, whatever did you two talk about? I have never seen my brother so flustered.”
“Your brother and I simply had a difference of opinion on something.” And then he left her, again.
“It looked to be more than that. He was positively puce,” the dowager said.
“It was nothing. I assure you he will be fine by tomorrow.” Or at least she hoped he would.
Her heart was still beating wildly. She had never had such a conversation in her life.
It both scared and exhilarated her. She had stood up for herself.
Voiced her thoughts. Her hands stung with the memory of what an outburst would have cost her at her first school.
She was older now and Lord Ashton would not cane her for speaking the truth.
He also proved her point.